I'm talking about that night on the rooftop at Jitters, when you felt betrayal for keeping my secret from you for months. You forgave me, and that was all I wanted, no-all I needed from you that night, just your forgiveness, because I knew I could never live with myself or pardon myself for what I had done, for hurting you, especially if it turned you away from me forever.

But along with your forgiveness, I got another confession-somewhat at least. You admitted to me that I was on your mind, that being with me was something you contemplated. And even though the reality of the situation wasn't in our favor yet, just that was enough for me.

And then more truth came to light about time and its malleability, about Thawne, how he carefully crafted our timeline by killing my mother for his own agenda, how he toyed with our lives as though we were pawns on his chessboard, and how once, before his influence, there was a timeline where you and I didn't live together. My mother was never killed, my father was therefore never imprisoned. I grew up with both my parents, attended the same schools as you did. We remained friends, in fact our friendship grew stronger until it evolved into what I've always felt for you, and you reciprocated. Our love was so potent that we married in this timeline as well.

This revelation-that we were living in a time that had been altered from an original one took a huge toll on me as you know. It prompted questions neither of us could even begin to grasp. Was there a natural order to things that Thawne had disrupted? Who gets to decide the events of an indigenous timeline? Was our current timeline false?

At this point, I was convinced that I had been gifted these powers so that I could take back what had been stolen from me. In hindsight, it was a self-centered conclusion, yes. But had anyone else been granted this ability to bend time but me? It felt prophetic.

I wrestled with whether or not I should go back and bring my mother to life again. It was easy to justify-after all, the single event that Thawne had induced was my mother's murder. If I reversed that sole incident, the initial order of the universe as it was intended would be restored.

Despite this justification though, I was uneasy. I turned to Joe for advice, and his thoughts mirrored my own. The decision was ultimately in my hands, as I was the one with the power, and as it was my mother's life that had come at the expense of Thawne's tampering. But I had to know what you were thinking too, as the person I valued more than anyone else. I don't know what I was expecting you to say on the rooftop that night. Really I just wanted someone to make the decision for me, but what you said resonated with me: that it was time to put myself first, because I had been altruistic for too long, and as much as I couldn't believe that, hearing it from you meant there had to be some weight to it.

You didn't tell me to go or not to go-only reassured me that what I want is valid.

I know I wanted a life with my parents. But most of all, I wanted you. Truth be told, maybe that was what sealed the deal for me-the promise that we would still be a part of each other's lives. How remarkable that the one constant in all of Thawne's meddling and murdering, is the two of us finding our way to each other?

If you couldn't tell by now, I do believe in destiny, at least one that has fated that you and I belong together, even if that's the only thing ordained while everything else changes.